


It's always better, down where it's wetter!

by TheBeastsWrite (orphan_account)



Series: Fantastic Beasts Smut Event Fics [9]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Percival, Biting, Bottom Newt, Breeding Kink, Double Penetration, M/M, Marking, Octo Percival, Possessiveness, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Tentacle Porn, happy open ending, slight dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-14 20:07:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14143569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/TheBeastsWrite
Summary: Blurb: Newt is trying to track down some old friends when he ventures into a newly claimed territory. Luckily for him to owner is friendly.... Very friendly.





	It's always better, down where it's wetter!

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 2 of [fantasticsmutbeastsweek](https://fantasticsmutbeastsweek.tumblr.com) LGBTQ+ Ship Smut Event: Beast Day
> 
> Come and find me on [Tumblr](https://thebeastswrite.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Thank you to [Nori](https://ladyoftheshrimp.tumblr.com) for beta'ing as always!

Newt had been in the area in hopes of reaching out to old friends. A pod of Selkies that he’d helped a few years back. He’d wanted to include them in his book and was planning to ask them if it was alright and what they’d like included.  

He’d spent a few days on the shore, calling for them but no one answered. It was unusual but not a worry, they may just be swimming further out than his voice carries. On the fourth day with no luck he decides it’s best for a more direct approach.

Newt recalls their sleeping grounds, and he spells his case somewhere safe, stripping down to just his boxers, performing a few charms to help against the current and in case he’s dragged under.

Ready to go he steps into the cold water, shivering at the immediate chill, but becoming used to it after a moment. Years of working with creatures have weathered him to certain conditions and he wades in, pushing out into the water.

He always enjoyed a good swim, the weightless feeling, the rush of waves against you. It was relaxing, calm, and with his wand strapped safely to his upper arm he didn’t fear anything, he felt at home here, as with so many places.

Newt swims out for a good twenty minutes, finding the half submerged cave where the Selkies used to reside to rest. Looking over the entrance he frowns at the quietness of it, used to laughter, singing and the sounds of a busy pod inside.

He inches a touch closer, looking about. Perhaps they moved on, it was not uncommon for pods to do so when they believed their time passed in the current area. Perhaps something else moved in and they decided it best to leave, but Newt can’t help the downcast feeling knowing he’d likely not see them again.

“ _Bugger_.”

Newt sighs the word, pushing up to a stone ledge of the cave, bracing his elbows there to rest for a moment, debating what to do next. The sunlight filters in, and he tilts his head back into the warmth of it, closing his eyes for a moment. He had other pods he could contact, he supposes that may be best.

He’s about to push off when he feels something brush his ankle, stiffening for a moment, one hand on the stone and the other skirting up his arm towards his wand. He’s not usually on edge at a touch, but with a missing pod and something slowly curling around him he has a right to be careful.

Newt barely has time to react, tentacles coiling around him, one looping around his waist, one lashes out of the water to pull his wrist back from his wand, yelping as he’s dragged back against something warm and solid.

His heartbeat is erratic for a moment, twisting in the hold when human hands curl under his chin, tilting his head to the side, something swimming about him to settle at his front and he wrenches his head out of the grip, blinking wide eyed at the Merfolk before him.

Octo-Merfolk are near extinct, in all his time and searches Newt has never come close to one, only finding faint traces but never a face to face meeting and  _oh_ what a face it is. The Merfolk has a strong jaw, dark brown eyes and slicked black hair, strong fingers curling back under his chin to force his head up to look at him.

“ _Pretty little breeder so deep in my territory.”_

Newt swallows hard at the jilted Mermish, he was very fluent in the language, but each region had its own variation and given he hadn’t met a Octo-Merfolk before, he’s bound to be a little behind.

He flushes when he catches onto the term. It’s not the first time a Merfolk has called him such, but it never fails to fluster him, flattered but also baffled that the creatures would see him as something held in such high regard.

“ _A lovely shade of red.”_

Rough fingers drag over the skin of his cheek, trailing up over the blush to curl in his hair, tilting his head back with a firm grip that draws a whimper from his throat.

The Octo is obviously a hunter, thick black tentacle that curls around Newt, another dragging over his thighs while yet another holds his wrists above his head, There are near glowing yellow rings on the black appendages and Newt’s lower lip trembles, caught in the grip of a strong Alpha.

He watches brown eyes admire him, his flush darkening and this is quite the predicament, on the one hand he should likely talk his way out of it, on the other hand he’s so very, very curious.

Not much is known about Octo mating habits, and a first hand account would be absolutely fantastic in future endeavors, not that he’s biased towards allowing it because the creature tilts his head and thick brows draw down in thought. He’s just so very  _attractive_ , and Merlin’s beard he may be wrong for thinking such a thing.

There’s a flash of sharp teeth and Newt closes his eyes for a moment, embarrassed by the way his cock is hardening, scalding himself internally for enjoying this.

“ _What is your name?”_

Newt’s lips part as a thumb drags over his lower one, jerking when a tentacle drags over his arse to curl around his upper thigh, inching his legs open.

“Newt.” The word is breathy and he licks over his lower lip, taking a shuddering draw of air to try again. “My name is Newt.”

The creature tilts his head, and Newt watches avidly as he bobs closer, biting his lower lip when he feels a tentacle tease under his boxers, slowly hooking in the fabric, the only thing between them now.

“My name is Percival.”

The words are a rough purr and Newt notes wildly that he sounds almost Irish, wondering how on earth he got to these waters, but not having much time to ask when the grip in his curls tightens and the creature leans in, a dangerous, heated mouth dragging over Newt’s jaw, scenting him, tasting him.

“A p-pleasure.”

Percival laughs at the stammered politeness, a thick tentacle dragging between his cheeks as Newt squirms against him, heart hammering in his chest. He wants to tell the Octo to stop his teasing, but he also doesn’t want to interfere with the correct procedure. It’s torture, the possessive touches, the tease of a tip dragging over his rim, as if Percival is wanting to feel every inch of him before he decides.

“I haven’t had a breeder in some time.”

Newt shivers when the tip of the tentacle circles his rim, wanting his boxers gone, wanting to be entirely engulfed in the feeling of it all. It takes a foggy moment to realize Octo-folk must have a similar secretion to the Mediterranean Merfolk, upping arousal and helping with a successful mating.

Well, he wouldn’t need any help but it was sweet Percival wanted him to feel good as well.

He rocks back onto the touch, parting his own thighs, pleased when eyes darken and the Octo leans in, dragging sharp teeth over his jaw, crowding in close now. Newt feels surrounded, touches everywhere, he doesn’t know what to focus on but oh the blur of it just has him arching, trying to fuck himself down onto the tease.

“I’m going to have  _you_.”

Newt can’t help how he moans in answer, loving the sheer demand in Percival’s voice, no longer asking, no longer testing. He’s passed whatever mating tests, though he doesn’t know what he was meant to be doing in the least.

He can’t help the giddy feeling as the tentacle gripping his boxers tears them from him, water lapping at his hips as he’s lifted slightly, his wrists released and he doesn’t hesitate to grab for broad shoulders, whimpering softly as large hands drag over him.

“You’re such a pretty thing, how did your pod let you wonder alone?”

Newt writhes as a hand pushes below the water, curling slowly around his cock and he’s so sensitive, leaking as a thumb drags over the tip of him, the Octo obviously looking curious at the differences of their bodies.

“I don’t have a pod.”

Newt bites his tongue, cheeks burning as he rocks his hips into the touch, fighting to choose between begging for him to push inside, or bring him to release with those lovely hands of his.

Newt’s eyes roll back a little when the tentacle presses against him, its own slick easing the way, insistent as it forces his hole open around it. It’s so incredibly nice to be full again and his mouth parts around a greedy sound as it pushes deeper, burying itself into him, thickening the deeper it goes.

“More of that tight slit for me then.”

Percival purrs the words, mouth moving down over Newt’s skin, tongue catching rivulets of water only to then drag, hot and scalding over his nipple, making him buck and cry out, his cock jumping when the tentacle slips from him only to thrust back inside, deeper than before, grinding roughly into his prostate.

His thighs fight to close for a second out of instinct, but they’re held easily open and Newt gets a little thrill in knowing how much stronger the creature is than him, breathy “oh, oh”’s leaving him as the tentacle starts fucking into him, twisting and thick.

“Beautiful little pearl.”

Newt keens at the praise, hands forcing his hips down onto the feeling of being fucked, body jerking with each push up, dragging his nails roughly down a broad back. He wants to leave his own marks, he’d have no hope of forgetting this, and he wants the Octo to recall their encounter just as vividly.

The determination fills him, wanting to show just what a wizard could offer. He slides his hand up, curling his fingers tight into Percival’s hair, starting to press down, riding the tentacle as he tightens rhythmically around him, knowing Percival was hiding more from him by being gentle. He wants to coax the Octo into fucking him as he truly desires to.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Newt tilts his chin up in defiance, even as Percival fucks into him, knocking the breath from his chest, adoring the way brown eyes flash, a curl of lip revealing deadly teeth. “You’re meant to be an  _Alpha_ , well I don’t feel a t-thing.”

There’s a snarl from the creature and Newt has an elated moment to know he’s won when tentacles tighten around his thighs, leaving delicious bruises along his skin, spreading him wider, a second tentacle pressing against his rim alongside the first.

A human hand curls around his throat, forcing his head up, a lovely, tight grip to put him back in his place, squeezing just as the second tentacle slams up into him, an absolutely ruined scream leaving his throat.

“An attitude. If you can’t control your mouth I’ll have to put it to good use.”

Newt makes a choked off sound when a tentacle pressed to his lips, the aphrodisiac the Octo produces leaves a sweet taste on his tongue, he moans lewdly around the appendage as it pushes past lips, forcing his jaw wide.

“The  _tightness_ of you.”

There’s praise in a simple sentence and Percival drags a thumb over his stretched lower lip before his hands moves back down to grip his throat, letting him feel his own thrusts into him, Newt’s eyes welling with tears as his throat and body ache in the most pleasant way.

The tentacles alternate their thrusts into him, Newt helpless but to take it all, lashes fluttering as he he brings a hand up, grabbing for the one fucking into his mouth, holding it and Percival stills the appendage to watch, eyes dark as Newt pulls his head back and pushes down, sucking on him, tongue dragging over him, loving the thrill of seeing the Octo enraptured by him.

The creatures mutters something and Newt doesn’t recognize the word itself but the growl of it suggests it’s something filthy and his cock drips at the sound of it. He knows he must look a mess, sucking greedily on him, taking him with rocks of his body like a practiced whore.

His orgasm builds fast, toes curling as he bucks, crying out around him, tears falling onto his cheeks as Percival fucks him mercilessly through it, body twitching and oversensitive, but he’s not done and Newt wants to feel all of him inside.

Newt pulls off of him with a filthy sound, panting hard, moaning as he continues to thrust into him, his thighs trembling from all of it.

“Fuck me.” He whimpers the words, biting at his lower lip and pleased when eyes follow the movement. “Breed me and use me, leave me swollen and leaking your seed.”

Newt colours with humiliation at the wrecked rasp of his voice, the words alone are bad enough but he sounds thoroughly fucked out and high on the sensations, but he pushes through it, wanting him inside more than he cares for politeness.

“ _Please_.”

That seems to do it, Percival’s eyes flaring, dragging Newt in flush to his chest, tentacles slipping away from thighs so that Newt can wrap his legs quickly around the Octo’s waist, nails biting at shoulders as human hands grip his arse, holding his cheeks apart.

“Hungry little thing. I’ll make sure no one ever quite fills you again.”

There’s a promise in that and Newt mewls, clinging tightly to him as Percival pushes between his cheeks.

He knows it’s his cock now, thicker at the tip than the tentacle has been, smearing precum over Newt’s hole, already feeling obscenely open and wet, burying his face in the creature’s shoulder as Percival presses inside.

Newt sobs softly against him, screaming when Percival braces himself and buries right to the hilt in one powerful snap of his hips, forcing Newt to take him, his eyes glassy with pleasure as the heat of him fills his hole.

Hands grip at his arse and lift him easily, water hitting skin, rippling around them as Percival starts fucking him hard, the wet sound of skin on skin loud in the cavern, mingling with low growls and moans from the Octo and Newt’s own cries and gasps of ecstasy.

“I think I’ll keep you little breeder.”

Newt shakes his head a little at the words, overwhelmed by the touch, the heat in his stomach and the bruises throbbing on his skin.

“You’re going to be mine now, my sweet little  _mate_.”

Newt cums again to that, bucking up, wondering what the bloody hell he’s gotten himself into as he slumps against him, pliant and loose for Percival to rut up into, tentacles dragging near affectionately over his thighs and hips, the Octo seeming adamant about leaving his marks over him.

He can’t possibly take anymore, spent and used, breath hitching with each grind of his cock, making an absolutely pathetic sound when a hot mouth drags over his exposed throat, sharp teeth against his pulse.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

Newt should protest, he can’t possibly be, they only just met that day. It’s a wild frenzy and the logical part of his mind tells him that he should remind Percival that that’s not how humans work.

But the part of him too wrapped up in beasts all but preens at the words, squirming against him, fighting not to cum once more, bouncing on his cock and swearing he’s seen some form of heaven with this.

“I’m y-yours.”

Sharp teeth sink into his throat and Newt wails as he cums again, vision funny, mind swimming. He might have blacked out for a moment, lashes fluttering at the feeling of cum inside, noting deliriously that Octo cum an awful lot, his stomach swelling just slightly, seed dripping from his hole as Percival slips slowly out of him.

They move lazily through the water as Percival lifts him, careful as he lowers him onto a smooth rock edge, gentle hands and tentacles checking over his marks and bruises and Newt is touched by the softness of it, forcing his eyes open to look at the creature, taking in the sharp lines of his face and the warmth of brown eyes.

“Will you come back?”

The words are rough, and Percival carefully doesn’t look at him, Newt’s heart aching at the uncertainty in his tone. He wonders how long the creature has been out here alone, how he must long for some company.

“I - Yes. I’ll come back. I’m here for a few weeks actually, if you’d like me to - I can set up in here? I’d have to venture inland for some supplies every now and then but, it’s dry on the ledges and easily protected. I’ve stayed in stranger places.”

Newt rambles a touch, watching large hands drag slowly over his skin, as fascinated with the creature as he seemed to be with Newt.

“I would like that.”

He glances up, breath catching in his chest at the stunning smile on a handsome face, feeling his own one tugging at the corner of his mouth, shy but excited to see where this will take them.

Newt reaches down, curling his fingers slowly with Percival’s. Giggling softly when a tentacle curls loosely around his wrist.

“Then I suppose I’ll stay."

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos keep me going!


End file.
